The Missing Pieces
by kato everdeen
Summary: sequel to The Missed Shot- After spending a year of captivity in the capitol and watched the suffering of seeing their loved ones die as tributes within two days of their games, Cato and Katniss are shoved back into the arena on their wedding day to finish what they began almost exactly a year ago, regardless of the bonds they had grown. (CONTEMPLATING DISCONTINUING)
1. Of Games and New Beginnings

**The Missing Pieces**

_Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)_

"Sink me in the river, at dawn  
send me away with the words of a love song"

This is actually a sequel to my first fan-fiction, The Missed Shot ( s/8219764/1/The_Missed_Shot). I suggest you read that first if you attempt to read this and getting lost in the darkness, not understanding what on earth is going on. If you have read The Missed Shot, welcome back.

* * *

In the place where I thought nothing else mattered, my life had finally begun.

The screaming has finally stopped and we are both on our way to recovery. After living a year as nothing more than a slave, a spectacle of entertainment, I have progressed to nothing remotely better. Some would say I'm worse off now, but at least I don't have to dress up and pretend to be happy. I don't have to pretend at all any more. I can be me, and spew the profanities that I've wanted to say so badly for so very long. Of course, life is a little easier when I don't preach my mind to the empty faux forests that have recently become my home. Perhaps they will make it rain a little less, or maybe make the birds a little easier to find. Maybe I'll find some wild strawberries, or the fish will swim upstream for once.

And then of course, there is also the fact that I'm no longer alone. There is always someone to come 'home' to, someone to share a 'bed' with when its unbearably cold, and someone to give me a reason to be alive.

Its been two weeks since my wedding, two weeks since I was locked back up and watched by thousands of unwavering eyes hidden behind television screens as they occasionally flip through the channels when they grow tired of watching two people being freer than them even in captivity.

I'm not going to lie, if it weren't for Cato, I would have given up hope right then and there when Snow sung shut that door after I had said my "I do". I would have collapsed under the weight of my soddened wedding dress and cried until my bodies desire for food began to eat at my own muscle, until I was decreed to nothingness.

Just having him there to hold me and then to remind me that with a body next to mine, there is still something left, there is still another heart beating that I care so dearly about that it would only motivate me to keep my pulsing along with it.

Welcome back to life, Katniss. You're pregnant and being hoarded by jabber-jays, mutts, nightmares, and worst of all, the fear of falling over and potentially killing the baby.

My need felt week and the only thing keeping me standing was Cato's steadfast grip around my waste, slowly circling his thumbs affectionately into my sides, pressing his face into my hair that was still held in position by the various toxic district labor made substances that had been spiked into my hair less than a few hours ago.

"You know you're beautiful right?" he murmured into the top of my head, my thick hair that itched to be in a braid muffled the sound of his voice, sending vibrations from his voice box through the top of my head.

It seems hard to believe that a year ago, I was disgusted by this man, that I would have hardly hesitated to take his life even though that would mean having another death on my already dirtied hands. The games change people. We have both grown week, we have learned to let our guard down, and in so doing, emotion has filled our voids.

Emotions can be very dangerous. They lead to instability, to confusion, to loss. Everything you get emotionally attached to will be ripped away and it will burn. Better to have nothing so you can loose nothing, than loose something, the only thing that matters and feel the retaliating burn.

To say you fear nothing is invalid and illogical. Fear is natural and without it, you don't deserve to live. But it goes without saying that in that minute that lasted forever where my wet dress pulled me down and the familiar sent of masculinity surrounding me, I felt nothing. There is no room for attachment in the arena; I had learned that the hard way last year. Peeta and Rue were examples of such.

"You know, they are still alive. They made it to the top eight. We could be in the same arena, it does look similar to the screens before, after all."

My stomach stirred, and the thought of seeing my district tributes, the ones I was supposed to mentor and help keep alive caused jolt after jolt of excitement and dejection into my blood.

"Something could have happened to them." The words tumbled out of my tight throat in a raspy, catching voice that strained my already tired mouth.

"If they are here, we'll find them. Come on, we have to find something. Anything. There is no knowing how long we'll be in here. If it were up to me, I'd rather be comfortable when night time comes around."

"Thank god there's no bloodbath this time." My voice came out as nothing short of a whisper.

"This year's bloodbath already occurred." His hands moved from my hips to gather around my tear stained face. His eyes leveled to mine and bore into me. I could read him like an open book through his eyes. The closed windows that they once were have become sources of vibrant information, giving me clues and tidbits of his emotion, accepting me little by little into his cold barrier that he had surrounded himself in at such a young age. His nostrils faired and his pupils dilated.

"I smell smoke."

The gut feeling of terror burned a hole in my stomach and my vision flared in red with the worry and recollection of memories. Flames have become my representation and my curse, and I could only imagine the laugh Snow was getting out of playing with that.

A robust woodsy smell of burning cedar and maybe oak, mingled with the smell of burning cotton and hints of hair invaded my sinuses making me gag. My legs stiffened in preparation to haul my dread wrenched legs one after the other to follow the vague direction of the higher concentration of putridity. My dress sagged unnaturally behind me, stressing my shoulders and waste as my bodice slipped a little from its steadfast position plush against my breast. Cato noticed and grinned before gathering the wet material in his hands and giving it a tug-

"My apologies, Cinna." He muttered, and watched it rip cleanly off from the corsette style top, revealing a durable well-fitted pair of cargo shorts.

"He's incredible." I murmured. "Too bad he didn't have the sense in putting me in boots to match."

"Lets deal with one thing at a time, shall we?" Cato said as he hastily loosened his tie and left it discarded next to the pile of torn and now stained material that once composed the dress that signified my marriage, and also my capture.

Without even bothering to speak, he set a steady pace towards the source of the smell and smoke. It gradually got easier and easier to locate the smell as it began to smell more and more of death. I'd say we had trekked for about fifteen minutes before we stopped.

Its not that we were tired, but I think any logical person would have stopped as well if they had heard six very familiar cannon shots, all going off consecutively. At this point, I wasn't even worried. If it was someone of importance, I'd be happy for them, because winning is the only hardship that is truly unbearable. If it were people who I lacked interest for, it would still be sad, heart wrenchingly sad that another life had been lost in the attempt to keep Capitol freaks amused, but not tragic.

The smell had begun to subside almost immediately after the blaring sound of cannon fire, and I had steadied myself, straining my senses to grasp the very last whiffs of it before it died out completely.

Breaking the din, there was nothing there to strike suspicion. Nothing to give any hint of the prospect of a fire, nor of six deaths. Well, apart from the charred mass of gold that still stood as the cornucopia, its glistening tip that leveled with the slowly setting sun remaining untouched by the soot that splotched its main body. The fire had left as soon as it had come, leaving the soul untouched, and no trees in the clearing, having a perfect ring of some forty feet branched out around the cornucopia, and nothing else until you hit the forest line, or the plateau that expanded across the opposite side of the forest.

Welcome back, Katniss, it's been a while.

* * *

In case there are those of you who weren't very interested in going back and reading the first fanfiction, in a nut shell, what has happened up to this point is when Katniss, Peeta, and Cato were on the cornucopia in their last few hours in the arena, Katniss misses her target and shoots Peeta through the heart instead of Cato's hand. Then after a few awkwardly written chapters, Katniss is blessed with insanity and goes through various trials such as prostitution, pulling her and the crazed weapon hoarder, Cato to become closer over time. They are denied their privileges to return home. The quarter quell is announced, and only direct relatives of previous victors will be reaped. I'm sure you can see where thats going. While the 75th games are going on, Snow orchestrates Katniss' wedding while she remains oblivious, finally trapping her and Cato back into the arena. By use of changing POVs, the readers know that all the tributes are dead, but Katniss and Cato are not yet aware of that, since the last time they checked, there were still eight tributes alive. Oh, and Cato knocked Katniss up. Thats pretty much it up to this point. Hopefully this fanfic will make a little more sense now?

Anyways, drop me a review and I'll love you.

Cheers, everyone!  
much love,  
-Noel


	2. Of Growing Fatigue

**The Missing Pieces: Chapter Two**

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

****"Help, I have lost myself and I feel unsafe.  
Be my friend, hold me. Wrap me up, unfold me"

Thank you to all the beautiful subscribers and reviewers, you all made my day! Cheers, much love x

* * *

I was exhausted, and that in itself was an understatement. Even while Cato said we were walking slowly because he didn't want me to stress or strain the baby, it was still unnervingly fast for my out of shape body, and even he seemed to get more and more frustrated by the minute at how his body was not meeting his expectations. I suppose spending almost an entire year locked up on a single floor with a very noticeable lack of training equipment does that to your body if its used to the vigor of district two training centers.

"We need to find shelter, and all things considered, while there might be less head cover out in the plateau, everyone expects us, moreover you, to veer towards the forest. We should look out for rock formations that will give us shelter from the wind. Lets hope the game makers are kind tonight." Cato said slowly, trying to space out his words, while his hands were on his head, elbows sticking out at acute angles on either side. He was forcing his breath through his nostrils, forcing to remain calm and not to appear out of breath or tired. I had actually asked for a break from all the hiking, not because I was tired, but because I wanted to give Cato something else to focus on, and he seemed to rather enjoy babying me.

"I'm more worried about food. I don't have my bow, nor do I have any ropes or wire for snares." I could always have gone foraging. If this arena was anything like last years than I would have no problem supplying us for as long as Cato's diminishing ego would allow me to. It was obvious how useless he felt, and even more so how wretched he felt by it.

"We'll figure it out. Weren't you some kind of hunting genius? Surely you could make a bow?"

"That was advice someone told me to take a long time ago."

"What?"

"'If there isn't a bow at the cornucopia, you make one.'"

"Smart kid."

"He's dead."

Cato pursed his lips together contemplating a response that would possibly not result in my bursting into tears. He looked down at me meekly from under his lashes, his mouth pulled thin, but slightly lopsided.

"Its actually quite shocking really. I got home to my floor one day, and there he was, just lounging on my bed." I narrowed my eyes coyly at Cato. I was having fun making him uncomfortable. Little by little I'd make him remember.

"Your cousin?"

This immediately startled me and it was really quite shocking. No one back home would have ever seen us as anything less than friends. Some said we were actually siblings, while others retorted that we were soul mates, to parts of one being. But outside of home, how could anyone have had any recollection of an easily overlooked Seam boy who used to spend almost all his time in a forest trying to fight for his life, just on a larger scale.

"What made you say that? I mean, we aren't related, but how did you make that assumption?"

Cato shifted ever so slightly so that he was brought to his fullest height; his legs spread slightly apart, feet braced in a stronghold position. His shoulders, however, slumped forward slightly in only what I could assume to be sadness or discomfort, and his eyes mimicked the tension exposed in his upper arms and shoulders.

"How about I make a promise to tell you later tonight. If I tell you now, we'll be here all night."

"How long away is tonight?"

"I'm guessing about another hour of walking, and the another half hour of possibly eating?" His voice was lighthearted and gentle, but I could tell it was forced. He felt uncomfortable talking to me, and he was keeping his emotions pent up because he feared they would anger or upset me.

Fear was just amusing. It seemed to stem from our sheer existence. If you were without it, you were a psychopath, and if you had too much of it, you were a weakling unworthy of life. But to have Cato afraid of something so trivial or odd as my displeasure was both elating and saddening.

"Can we walk slower this time? You can help me look for edible plants along the way."

He bent down and offered a massive hand which I took delicately, lacing my fingers through his, watching as my skin stretched bone digits lay there against his strong, sturdy and large ones, and then felt the exertion of his strength as he guided me into standing position.

"You sure you only want to walk slower to look for food, or are you just looking to give your feet a break?

"Well, its not my fault you have shoes and I don't!" I said, staring pointedly at the two matching pointed toe black leather dress shoes he had on, and then to my grass stained and dirt covered bare toes.

"For all the good these shoes do, I'd be better off barefoot as well."

"Feel free to join me then."

I pulled my fingers free from his and attempted to gracefully scamper away and stand stoically in a small clearing of trees.

True to his word, he did take his shoes off, but instead of tossing them aside as he did the tie and the bottom half of my dress, he tied them at the laces and slung them over his shoulder. Then hesitating, he smirked broadly at me and brought both his hands down to meet the buttons on his slowly fading white shirt.

His fingers expertly flew from button to button, his smirk steadily growing larger as I pretended to bear no interest in the spectacle that was unfolding in front of me, and failed, evidently because my eyes never strayed from the front of his shirt for a second, not until it was hanging loosely off his shoulders, and he was bending to pull it off.

"You've known me quite a while, I thought you'd be used to the star-struck awesomeness of my abdominal region." His words parted through his smiling lips, and despite the less than pleasurable circumstances, I couldn't help smile back. An embarrassed smile, mind you, but a smile nonetheless.

His pectorals flexed and I completely disregarded the arrogant smirk that was plastered across his face. Eventually catching on, he flexed his abs, pausing only to wink shamelessly at me then adverting his own eyes to match my gaze on his rippling muscles.

My view was suddenly and unexpectedly blocked by a white object listing across my vision until the material of his shirt had made contact with my head.

"Well it's a good thing no one sneaked up on you just then, because apparently you loose complete awareness of anything after just the slightest distraction."

A blush rose to my cheeks as I pulled the shirt from my face. "You're not exactly just some slight distraction." I mumbled under my breath, not loud enough for him to understand, but at least loud enough to get him guessing.

"Keep the shirt. I can only imagine what it's like walking around in that bone crushing thing you're tied up in."

"Well its not like we had much option in our attire for this ever so special honey-moon. But thanks for the shirt. You're right; it's horrible in this thing. Most of the time I feel like I can't breathe."

I held Cato's shirt between my knees, turned away, and pulled my hair over my shoulder so I would have better access to the laced up string holding the corset together in the back. My fingers fumbled and I began to gently bite my lip in concentration. I was getting frustrated. Surely Cinna would have known the struggle I would have getting out of this thing. Normally his designs are so simple, flawless, and easy, and this went against all of those qualities.

I felt Cato's fingers replace my own, and between the two of us, we managed to completely unlace the strands of white ribbon from my back, which I quickly nabbed from his hand and began working it in my hair, not even bothering to stop the fabric from falling off my chest. I tied the ribbon with a tight, triple done knot, and threw it over my bare back where it silently lay, skirting up as I bent down to retrieve Cato's shirt from between my legs. I pulled it on slowly, savoring the feeling of clean, warm fabric caressing my skin for probably the last time in a long while, if not, for ever.

Turning around slowly, still buttoning the shirt, where it lay dully. I may not be the biggest fashionista but I knew I looked relatively foolish in the pair of cargo shorts and a highly tailored men's dress shirt that fell to my mid thighs and required me to cuff twice in order to at least see my hands.

"Lets go."

"Are you just leaving that here?"

I sniffed and sent a glaring eye at the remains of my rib crushing confinement that I had worn for the past several hours. I didn't even bother to reply, instead, just continued walking in our pre-established position due east, my bare feet soothingly burying in the grass and soil with every step, Cato eventually following after me, and gradually catching up until we were walking side by side.

Along our way, I had weaved a makeshift basket from tall grasses, and steadily began to fill with odd findings, including nuts, roots, and occasionally leaves, fruit or berries, if I could find something that I confidently trusted. If I could refine the grasses and build ropes, I could possibly orchestrate a few snares. That, at the very least, would prove interesting enough to keep me from boring my mind out myself while it's my watch.

Despite Cato's desire to proceed into the plateau area, we had found no suitable rock formation to provide enough shelter to hide us or protect us from elements. We ended up following through with my desires and found a tree. Taking into account that the branches had to be large enough to comfortably support both myself and my newlywed husband, we settled for a twisted formation of maple trees that seemed to have grown together over the years, its branches twisting around each other, and the trunks merging in some places.

"I think you owe me a story." I said to him, as I perched over our branch, my knees knocking into his, and the rest of my legs dangling below us, our makeshift basket of temporary sustenance between us as we occasionally stuck a hand in and popped a bit of whatever it was in our mouths.

"I do, don't I…"

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Authors Note:

This chapter was a bit of a filler, yes, but I'm establishing a few things, and a nice juicy chunk of something is coming up next, I'm just not sure what it is yet.  
Drop a review, or subscribe, it does more good than harm! In fact, it does no harm, so all the more reason to! x

-Noel (Kato Everdeen)


	3. Of Gale and Cato

**The Missing Pieces: Chapter Three**

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

"Heart beats fast, colors and promises  
how to be brave, how can I love when I'm afraid"

Thank you to all the beautiful subscribers and reviewers, you all made my day! Cheers, much love x

* * *

"Its not exactly an easy story to tell, Katniss. It's horrible to have to remember, let alone recount, and telling it will probably hurt you more than myself."

My stony face had done nothing, and remained unblemished by portrayal of emotion other than interference. My fingers snaked their ways to interlace between his as I silently coaxed his tongue into moving, allowing the words to slowly tumble out of his mouth.

"Things were so different, back then, I'm pretty sure we both knew that. We were both confused, hurting, and for lack of better word, bitter. I dealt with my pain by doing the only thing I knew how to do at the time, and that was, without surprise to anyone, training. I was furious with myself for being so weak, for letting my guard down. Emotions never came easily for me, and the only emotions I really ever had experience with was anger, hate, or determination. Feeling simply the opposite left me reeling, exposed, and uncomfortable.

I grew up training for the games, I was determined I would win, do anything to do so, and I did, but it wasn't what I wanted. You were pulled up with me, and I hated you for it. You bested the games, plucked me up out of the arena with you, putting everything I once stood for to shame, and internally wrenched me apart, while at the same time I was in awe of you. You, the poor, half starved girl with olive skin, dead hair, and grey, going on black eyes, daunted, tormented, and testified against me showing no fear, just strength. You were ready to die, something I couldn't and probably won't ever come to grips with.

I spent whatever I had left in me driving myself harder and harder to do the only things I knew, violence, and frustration. Simple training became an obsession, and I never once noticed the watchful eyes that peered at me from behind a one-way mirror.

One way or another, those eyes caught me, and decided I was some sort of problem. I'm not sure why, I wasn't doing anything other than letting loose my temper. Normally I would spend all night wielding a sword, or a spear and eventually pass out from exhaustion after a few dozen hours, and then continue over working my muscles until the confusion was drowned out with physical fatigue.

Anyways, one day I woke up back on your floor with my back against the wall opposite the bed, not tied down or restrained in any way other than my own exhaustion. I was so confused, I mean, they had let me spend about a week in the training room, why had it suddenly become a problem.

I tried calling out for you, but my voice was hoarse and it came out hardly more audible than a whisper. I had to swallow hard before I could even dream of saying anything more, and when I did, I heard rustling on the bed as if someone had woken up, and all I could remember was hoping against hopes that it would be you. I had never been so frightened since my battle with Thresh during the games; only this time I was sleep deprived, hungry, and hopeless. Right about then, I would have given anything to have actually died in the arena.

I stole the energy to say your name, and it burst from my mouth in a pained manor that made my throat burn in a way that made my heart sink farther into my already strained chest. The rustling on the bed only continued, and I couldn't find the will to do anything other than let my head slam back into the wall and close my eyes.

'She's not here, I already called out, if she were here, she would have come by now.' A voice called from beyond where my vision permitted me access. I had never heard it before, and being in a vulnerable state with my conditioning, I was worried and braced myself for attack, but none came. There was silence as if the man speaking expected a reply, and I wasn't in the condition to intend on giving one.

'Where am I, exactly?' he said. Judging from his heavy breathing, he was either wounded or drugged, both of which were liable possibilities considering the capitols standing track record for hosting brutal events. I was just shocked about his openness, and questions were flying through my head so fast it hurt. Instead of replying to his question, I met it with another question of my own.

'Who are you?'

He said his name was Gale, and had I known before hand that you held him so close to your heart, I would have done anything I could to stop his death, had I been in the position to in the first place."

My heart was being slowly pulled apart at the re-count of Gale's death, pulling open mental wounds that were first made that night I got back from being forced into prostitution and I found Gale on my bed.

Cato had stopped speaking and his eyes bored into mine silently apologizing for pulling up painful thought, even though I had originally insisted on hearing.

"We sat in silence for at least an hour, the only noise was the occasional rustle of clothing and our own shallow breaths. It was getting steadily harder and harder to breathe as the time we spent in that room increased. I remember the air smelling sickeningly like roses, the smell growing stronger every few minutes. Gale eventually began coughing now and then, and the air began to burn my nose every time I inhaled. There was a toxic feel to the room, and I was beginning to worry.

I forced my joints to move, and my muscles protested pronouncedly, but complied as I pulled myself into a standing position, letting my eyes gaze around the room, pausing at the body on the bed that was slumped against the wall, his eyes closed and his mouth open to possibly save his nose from the pain of breathing the heavily scented air.

There was a little black wrapped box on the table next to the bed and it was tied with simple white string, double or triple knotted. I staggered over to it, my head convulsing slightly as I was very nauseous and giddy, and forced my fingers around the box as I rested my back against a wall in order to peel the string away from the box and carelessly rip the paper off showing a metal contraption with a button in the middle saying 'play me'.

Unsure of what to do, I clicked it anyways where it made an unpleasant clunk, followed by a reeling noise and a bit of static when a familiar cough ridden voice sounded through the speckled dots beneath the button.

'This is your president speaking. Games are one of my favourite pastimes, as that may already have been evident, so I thought it would be fitting to enjoy one right now. Both of you are an object of a woman's love, who at this very moment is having sex with another man of my choosing. Whether she completes the deed or not will define if both of you leave this room alive. If she does not, only one of you, if any at all, will live. It will be a test of mental strength. There is a poisonous gas leaching through this room, and will eventually kill you in two hours. Someone with a weaker immune system would feel the effects of fatality much sooner. May the odds be ever in your favour, and let the game begin.'"

He stopped talking as a tear slipped from my eye. "Cato, why didn't you tell me?"

* * *

Authors Note: Hey guys, sorry about how long it took to update, I was having another lazy spell. Hope you liked the chapter. Also, disclaimer, I own nothing to do with saw, I just borrowed the idea and applied it to my story. Let me know how you liked it, drop me a review. Thanks so much to all of you who have been reading, subscribing, and favoriting, you mean the more than the world to me.


	4. Of Jolts and Vibrations

**The Missing Pieces: Chapter Four**

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

_"You're so cynical, narcissistic cannibal_  
_got to bring myself back from the dead"_

To those of you who have been reviewing, subscribing, and favoriting, I love you all to bits. Sorry about the delay it took to post this. Been getting lazy.

* * *

Under my rampant pressuring he had finally let out the one piece of long, the one restraint that separated us, and as much as I wanted to cry, to re-mourn the loss of my best friend, Gale, my mouth refuses to move, my tongue becomes dry, and my head begins to throb. Cato just sits there, the pile of edible tidbits sat untouched between the two of us on our tree-branch perch forty feet above the ground.

He didn't have to tell me any more, I already knew the rest of his story, and somehow, I didn't think he had the strength to finish it anyways, not that he would ever admit it. His eyes plead forgiveness as if he had committed a crime, and the slump in his shoulders told me that underneath all that muscle is still the eighteen year old boy, man, whichever who was deprived of so much to be prepared to become a murderer.

"Hope is the only thing stronger than fear." I whispered, recalling painful memories of my own games, the hope that perhaps I could have made it out alive with Peeta the first time around, the hope that I could save Rue, the hope that I could prevent Prim's death. The hope that still lingers questionably.

"Hope only exists when there is anything left. When there is nothing, what do you have?" Cato's voice was cold and dead, and the implications or neglecting of including me from his list of 'anything' hurt.

"You still have me."

"I don't need to hope to have you, I already do, and I never plan on letting go."

Neither of us knows what to say from then on, and a silence builds between us. Not a silence that either of us dislike, not one that either of us feel uncomfortable in, just a silence. We didn't need a vocal connection to be at ease together, and slowly the small pile of food between the two of us vanished.

Night was falling on us, and the sounds of the nocturnal symphony were being introduced, slowly, building up with every few minutes until there were no quiet breaks. We slowly spread ourselves into the crook of two branches, aiming to minimize discomfort, and settled down, my back against Cato's slowly heaving chest.

He had only told me that story for a reason, and it was steadily becoming clearer. We were on national television yet again, and having portrayed such a taboo discussion of Capitol cruelty, I could feel nothing but fear for both of our lives. What would they do to us in retaliation to his utter the words that so many wished to, but knew better not to?

"Are you alright?" He murmured into my hair as I caught myself shaking with fear.

"Some things I guess- I guess there are some things that just shouldn't be said. I'm worried we have done more harm than good this past hour."

"Not much more harm can happen to us in the first place though."

He doesn't know, or he hasn't thought about just how much it would matter if he were gone. More than likely, they had edited out our conversation prior, there is no way they would allow blasphemy such as that to air nationally. We had already caused considerable damage already; it would be illogical for Snow to allow any further.

"We have to be more careful."

"Why, its not like anything worse can be done to us."

"They can kill us."  
"Like that would matter, we're better off dead anyways."

A shiver ran down my spine, regardless of the warmth his protective arms were giving me to combat the steadily dropping temperature of the night. His words vibrated from his neck that was currently pressed into my shoulder as he burrowed his chin into the crook of my neck, occasionally landing delicate kisses on my ears and hair.

"As long as we were together, we'd be fine." He murmured, sending another chill down my spine.

"And what if they take you away?"

"Well that would only matter if you love me."

Was he questioning my love? Had I not already given up everything to him, right down to my own beating heart? My head was slowly clouding with unrest and confusion as I tried to tame my thoughts that were getting more and more vicious, threatening to result in tears.

"I do love you." I whispered, but my voice caught in my throat.

"Mmm?" was all he said, as he began snaking his lips all over my neck. A moan escaped my lips and my hand flew to my mouth trying to cover my embarrassment. I could feel his lips curve into a smile as they pressed at the tender spot just below my ear.

"I love you." I said, and this time it burst out, sounding odd against the contrasting nighttime orchestra. His smile widened against my skin, and I could feel his nose graze gently against the tender skin that he had been focusing on for the past little while. My breathing steadied and came out a little ragged as I closed my eyes.

"I love you too." His lips grazed the length of my entire length, sending jolt after jolt of warmth down my body, and coiled around in my stomach, prevailing against the now almost unbearable cold that was attacking us and trying to darken the mood. My lips parted and I sighed, and watched as my condensing breath floated through the air and drifted upwards, sky-bound. "And because of that, we never have to worry."

I don't know how long we sat there, his arms wrapped around mine, until I fell asleep, but the time between sleeping and waking up felt like little more than five minutes, but the sun had in-fact made its presence, and the steadily increasing temperature was also making itself known. Cato was snoring beneath me, vibrating gently, as each of his breaths lifted me up and back down slightly.

The sound of mockingjays and gentle buzzing from various insects were the only sound available to combat Cato's gentle snoring, and compared to last night's unrelenting ruckus, the serenity was welcomed, even if it was only for a little while.

Cato's vibrating breath became slightly more intense, and I presumed he was close to waking, but left him undisturbed to bask in the few remaining minutes of sleep he might be holding on to. The insects had stopped buzzing gradually, leaving only the passing mockingjay tunes to break the silence. Between the small groups of five to seven, they were bouncing around a very rhythmic tune that didn't seem to resemble any sounds you might find in nature. It was if they had taken the sound of a churning clanking machine and turned it into a cold, dark and harsh melody.

A single mockingjay let out a screech, the same call the signalled an approaching hovercraft, and the small flock dispersed. But nothing came, leaving Cato and me in an eerie silence, threatening to overcome me and drive me insane if it weren't for the pair of arms that still slackly clasp my waist to his body.

The vibrating was beginning to go into my ears and was coming from all around me. It was even in the air, sending my brain into hyper drive. Years of hunting experience couldn't have helped me understand what was going on, and I was completely lost.

"Cato?" I said, moving around and adjusted my position slowly so I could be facing him, careful not to let either of us slip even a little from our perch in the tree. His eyelids fluttered open slowly, and his face was groggy.

The vibrations were travelling through the wood beneath us, and I watched as Cato's pupils dilated with angst. His face was full of an emotion I had never seen on him, and his mouth worked frantically, no long held shut with the effects of having just woken up.

"We have to get down!"

His eyes flashed once more and he was urging me down, an expression of exacerbated fear distorting his features.

* * *

Authors Note: I know this chapter took forever to come out, and I'm so sorry, but I just haven't been feeling very motivated. Infact, I've lulled myself into this massive 'lazy coma' as I like to call it. Anyways, I hope the chapter was ok, I'm sorry if some of the grammar wasn't too great, but i guess you win some and loose some.

Leave me 10 reviews for this chapter and I'll update within two days. I love you guys, and thanks so much for your support.


	5. Of Crashing

**The Missing Pieces: Chapter Five**

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

_"If your plane fell out of the sky,_

_Who would you call with your last goodbye?"_

Under Cato's distressed urging, I began climbing down with all speed I could muster from my still sleep-induced body. The vibrations that coursed through the tree was making it harder and harder to find footholds, and my grip on the branches was being thrown off. Now and then fear would grip hold of me and I would slow down slightly until I caught myself and forced myself down, down until I could see the forest floor only ten feet below me. My hands shook, a sensation completely bizarre to me, as I was so used to sure, calculated movements that I associated with hunting.

"Keep going Katniss!" Came Cato's urgent voice from just above me, whose face was a mixed mess of terror and anxiety.

I continued forcing my way down, trying to ignore the vibrations that were steadily becoming more frequent and stronger. Giving myself the credit that climbing down is much harder than climbing up, I descended faster than I ever had before, and yet it still wasn't enough to calm the distressed Cato above me.

One foot down, extend another, reach for a new branch, and repeat. Slipping into autopilot, I realized that all sounds of wildlife had disappeared, a resilient ringing noise willed my ears and I puzzled over it as my limbs extended and went through the motions by themselves until I realized that the vibrations were now penetrating even the air, wave after wave of nothingness was beating down on me constantly, and only under Cato's repeated urgent calls of comfort and caution, I put my foot on what I estimated my last branch before I could safely jump down to the ground, then grimaced as my backside slammed into the dry soil.

Looking directly up, I could see the branch I had been trying to put my weight on snapped almost in half, still held to the tree by a few remaining splinters of wood. Cato was also above me too, and he must have heard my fall but didn't look down.

"Please tell me you're all right." He called, still edging his way down as fast as his massive body would allow.

I quickly assessed the potential damage I could have done to myself, and while my lower back hurt, it couldn't have been more than a bruise. Anything more and I would have been genuinely surprised as it was only about an eight-foot fall.

"I'm fine." I called up, hoping my voice would sound strong and confident, considering Cato needed support right now, and regardless of whatever he might say.

The ground was shaking in a sense that suggested there were thousands upon thousands of people hosting a riot miles and miles underground, sending tremors through my body.

Above the tremors in the air, I could hear the sound of Cato's massive body navigating through the steadily thickening boughs of wood protruding from the trunk and doused in thick down leaves, followed with various curses and breath hitches until the reassuring sound of his feet hitting the ground in a loud thud, matched with a jostle as he used to hands to balance him out.

I tried to stand and found my sides protesting against the motions.

"Cato…what is this." I said to him as I began to feel spasms run through my lower body from the pain of the perpetual bruising on my tailbone. He made his way over to me, wary of the tremors running through the ground.

"We need to get to open space." He grunted, on autopilot, with little aim other than to get out of here safely. Whatever was going on, he had some kind of experience with it, and knew what to do. Only the urgency in his voice could compel me to move, so I brought my body into a stance with my legs stiff, biting my tongue to hold in the hisses of pain that were only several more movements away. I steadily tried to unlock my legs and take a shaky step forward and found myself falling again, my palms outstretched to break my fall, and my body following suit, smashing into the trembling ground with much force.

"Cato…" I panted, unable to catch my breath. My body would not cooperate and the pain that was flowing through my lower body was triggering something of a panic break down in my head.

He grunted and shuffled towards me, hooking his arm around my legs and closing his eyes before he brought his other arm and wrapped it just beneath my arms, supporting my back as he hugged me to him, my head burrowing into his bicep. He began lumbering forward, in his search for what he said to be open space while I worked on keeping my breathing steady and fear from over riding my mental capacity.

I didn't see very much, just flashes of green as Cato picked up his pace, levelling out and trying to compensate for both the incessant vibrations in the ground and for the time lost, but I could tell I was slowing him down.

It was steadily getting lighter and everything seemed to be brightening and yet nothing was coming to life the way it should at early morning. The typical sounds of wildlife was replaced with the nauseating of clashing vibrations which were steadily turning into rumbles that caused my insides to coil and uncoil uncomfortably.

I could hear Cato's breathe coming out raspy and tired and I knew I was grieving him.

"Cato?"

He grunted in reply, not wasting the effort to speak.

"You can put me down, we'll make better time."

"You're injured." He said as he wrapped his arms more firmly around me, adjusting slightly to avoid discomfort and correct his positioning.

"We're almost there anyways." And I took my queue to sit tight and try to be the best passenger I could.

The worst was over and Cato's footing was less awkward, he seemed to be running over more flat land with less possibilities of tripping because he seemed to grow confidence and surety in his footing. Panting audibly, he began to slow to a jog, and eventually to a walk, his breath hitching occasionally.

"Thank you." I whispered, as he set me on the ground. I could feel the ground shake beneath my body, a vibration no longer and the sound of rumbling was beginning to be matched with crashing from every direction.

"Don't thank me until this is over and we're both alive." He grunted, struggling to fill his body with enough oxygen to make up for the over excerption of energy he had just demonstrated. He slumped to the ground next to me, his hands laid behind him supporting his leaning body, his legs stretched out wide in front of him, his right foot jiggling irregularly due to the thundering jolts ripping through the earth, occasionally bumping into my own quivering legs.

We were in the other part of the arena, a vast circular area of dried cracked dirt, dead thinning plants littered around, and rocks ranging from the size of boulders that were planted upright and unmoving to small pebbles that littered the ground and were shaking along with the tremors of the earth.

He moved closer to me so his body pressed into mine as I counted his breath as he steadily calmed down and regained his strength.

Around us were trees, the closest to us was a line of pines about fifty feet away, while the other side were another line of trees that were so far away I couldn't distinguish the particular type. The crashing noises were coming from them and were steadily building along with the tremors, until eventually I couldn't even control my jaw as I jiggled in its socket as if I were shivering.

"May the odds be ever in our favor, hmm?" Cato whispered in my ear with a slight laugh.

"Lets hope." Was all I could say, but was hardly audible over the sound of my teeth chattering.

And then the trees began to fall.

* * *

**Authors Note:** again quite a short chapter, my apologies. My lazy spell has sadly not yet worn off, but I think my writers block has ended. I hope this chapter was alright, and as always please review and let me know what you think, what should happen next, or possible hopes for an ending. (because god knows I haven't figured it out yet.)

Thank you all for the inspiring reviews, I really can't describe how much you mean to me


	6. Of Bile

**The Missing Pieces: Chapter Six**

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

_"Sweet dreams that don't come true_  
_I'd leave it all for you."_

* * *

Row upon row of green vegetation collapsed onto each other, resembling something of a stack of neatly lined dominos. The effect created a sort of wave compilation, in which each trunk would hit the forest floor one after the other causing a consistent and rarely broken rumbling that overpowered the one audible vibrations running through the ground and air itself.

To say that the ruckus was loud was an extreme understatement in itself. It was loud enough to mask the gasps I made every few minutes or so when my head began pounding with enough force that would make me want to scream had I not been wrapped in a pair of arms that I trusted more than I trusted myself. Now and then my stomach would curl into itself, threatening to empty the little content that was there in the first place.

It took everything in me not to bend over and hurl over my side. Cato was in enough stress with the situation, whatever it was, without having to worry about my well being, especially after the efforts he had just made to insure my safety. Meanwhile I could feel my head and stomach protesting against my restrictions, steadily pulling me into a more and more foul mood.

I closed my eyes and buried my head in Cato's arms trying to block out whatever it was that was ailing me, and forced myself not to gag or shake too hard. He must have noticed some sort of irregularity in my behaviour because he did his best to pull me in tighter in what he must have thought to be a protective embrace but only made me feel more trapped.

After what seems hours, I feel his fingers caressing my cheek and his nose slowly nuzzling my hair.

"I think it's stopped."

I stole myself to open my clenched eyes. My head still spun uncomfortably. As I forced my reeling eyes to assess the devastation surrounding us in almost every direction my heart throbbed uncomfortably realizing that my major source of possible food had just been eliminated. On top of that, having been so closely drawn to forests, their connection to safety at least within back in district twelve, and having one so completely obliterated posed a very strong signal. Snow was telling me that I would never truly be safe, nor was I ever.

"We have drills for things like this back at district two." Cato said, startling me out of my concentrated funk. I could barely hum in response before he had carried on. "Earthquake drills were common, and when they weren't drills, they were the real thing. We had one at least once a month. It's horrible, but it's even worse in the quarries. People get trapped and either die from impact or suffocation." His voice was controlled and monotone, except it caught when he said suffocation.

I raised an eyebrow that he couldn't see and said nothing.

We learned very briefly about earthquakes in school, but it was never something focused on, and was probably only mentioned in passing by a teacher in one of their lectures about the importance of coal mining, or mining safety. From what I could remember, earthquakes were natural disasters, and this was all too unnatural. Things only ever happened for a reason, and apart from sending me a message of dissent and revocation of safety, they had driven us out of the forest for a legitimate reason.

Without warning, I am jolted into standing position as I hurriedly walked away from Cato, listening to his protests but not really hearing them until I stopped short in my stride and brought my hands up to my temples, trying to dull the thumping that was beginning to take place from the mild headache I had before. My stomach jolted again and without even realizing, my body was bending over with the effort of dry heaving my near empty stomach until all that came up was a mess of bile splotched unevenly with what I feared might be blood.

"Katniss!" Cato's concerned voice trailed from behind me and I felt what I'm sure he intended to be a comforting hand on my back, but to me, it felt irritating. My clothing was bothering me, and anything touching my skin was already too much. My palms were beginning to sweat and I was panting from the effort of my fit that I had managed to contain until just then.

"Sit down, you should put your head between your knees." Cato's voice was urgent but comforting, a feat that only he could have accomplished. How he could worry about me at a time like this was a mystery, because the only thing I could make conscious thought about was whether or not this bout of misery was due to the baby.

Was it ok? Did I hurt it from all the falling I had done before? Why was I calling it and it in the first place? It suddenly depressed me that I didn't actually know the gender of my unborn child, and then it struck me that I may not even live to find that out.

Despite everything I had once thought about the idea of having children in the past, I couldn't let this go. This was the one last piece of me I could hold on to, because with every passing minute I suspected with more and more dread that Prim was dead. If Cato died any time soon, all I would have left is determination- determination to insure my unborn child's life- that is, if I haven't failed already.

Its time I became more careful.

"Katniss, please?" His voice was pained, and he sounded worried up to a point of fear.

"I'm- I'm ok…I think." I managed to force out, my voice sounding strange in my ears, and my tongue strangely dry. My throat was still burning from the bile that had spouted up it only minutes ago.

"You're scaring me to no end. If something is wrong you have to-"  
"Nothing is wrong." I cut off quickly. I didn't want to think about it, and he if he forced conversation out of my worries, my worries could quickly evolve into fears, and from there, obsessions that could deter me from logic.

"You're irreplaceable Katniss. Don't get lost because of something you can be helped with but are too stubborn to accept it."

I felt suddenly argumentative. How could he call me stubborn? I was carrying his child, and I had as much a say in anything as he did, if not more. I'm the reason we are both alive, and yet I'm also the reason we both should be dead, but all things considered, everything happens for a reason. My head kept throbbing and protested against the heavy though processes flowing through my head but I did my best to ignore it.

"Yes, of course I'm so stubborn. Might as well just deem me useless too while you're at it, not like I can do too much in this ridiculous attire." I managed to formulate, after a long pause that I had collected my thoughts in.

Cato opened his mouth to respond angrily but a beeping sound stopped him, freezing his face into a still image that I may have found amusing had we been in a different set of circumstances.

A silver parachute dropped from a hovercraft that was already speeding away. Attached to it was a large box, about the same size our monthly tesere came in, with the number twelve messily painted over the cover in white paint.

Glancing at Cato with an inquisitive expression plastered to my face, I found myself drawn to the box, pulled the parachute off and tucked it into my belt before digging my dirt encrusted fingernails under the grooves of the box lid and began prying it open with dying gusto until I gave up and watched as Cato dejectedly took my place and eventually got the box open with some gentle shifting.

His eyes widened dramatically and his lips mouthed a single word that appeared to be 'wow', and then gestured for me to come join him.

Instead of moving, I stared at him expectantly, and watched as he sighed and slid the box over to me across the dry ground, avoiding my small pool of bile and blood.

Lying at the top of the pile inside the box was a folded black shirt and jacket. Next to it was a pair of worn leather boots, both of which I picked up out of the box and placed next to me.

Growing tired of standing on my fatigued legs, I found myself seated, cross legged with the box nestled between my legs, quickly glancing to Cato with an inviting look, and waited for him to settle next to me on the ground.

His hand went into the box at the same time as mine did, both of us blindly, not paying very attention visually. My fingers wrapped around a familiar feeling slender handle and pulled out a flexible and folded wooden contraption. With some assembling, clamping, and toying, I managed to coordinate it into a functional bow. My eyes lit up excitement and gasped with joy as happiness spread through my heart and ran down my limbs.

Cato's mouth twitched slightly in a barely noticeable smile at my elation, and handed me a small box that was similar to the ones we used to find in the bathrooms adjacent to our bedrooms back at the tributes tower.

Without really paying attention to it, I put my hands back into the box and swept the bottom of it and found nothing else. Unsure, I checked again, and was met with nothing but the smooth unblemished and chaffed solid base.

"Thank you." I said silently as I let my hands wander through the laces of the boots that now sat next to me.

"How generous." Cato mused. It was no secret that there was nothing really meant for him in that box, and it almost shocked me, considering he seemed to be a relatively popular victor, not to mention he was surely good enough looking to earn a few sleazy female sponsors, regardless of the fact that we were now technically married.

"Mhmm." Was all I could really formulate. My mind was very clearly preoccupied.

I brushed off whatever dirt I could from my feet with my bare hands before slipped the right boot onto the according foot, then was about to do the same thing when something cold assaulted my foot, rather than the familiar feeling of leather.

Upon further inspection, it turned out to be my old mockingjay pin, which I pulled out, and a rare smile lit up my face. Cinna really thought of everything, and seemed to have a hand in almost every good thing about me.

I put the pin down for a second next to a dead clump of dandelions for a second while I pulled my left boot on and laced the two up with determination, forcing my near useless fingers to warm up and cooperate.

Picking the pin back up and examining it, it was still the same, still a little piece of something to hold on to from back in district twelve. Something to remind me of who I was when even I don't remember anymore. I held it up to the light just to see the sun glint off it the way the sun would glint in Prim's eyes whenever I sang her a song, when something popped out to me.

There was something engraved along the arrow in the mockingjay's clutches.

It read, "Dig. -H & R"

* * *

Authors note: well, I hope that gives you a few clues at least to what might happen. Wonder who 'R' is. Well, I don't actually, I already know, but yeah, have fun guessing.

Cheers again to you all, thanks for reading and reviewing :)


	7. Of Hope and How I lost It

**The Missing Pieces:** Chapter Seven

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

_"Pick it up and start again_

_You've got a second chance to escape it all_

_It's just medicine"_

Time stops during dire times, and sometimes it just stands still when you're least expecting it. It creeps up on you and in the amount of time it takes to blink, what was once despair has become hope, what was once fear is now courage.

I clipped and pinned the mockingjay to my breast before smiling to Cato who looked impassive at the recent turn of events. I was confused as to why he wasn't happy for our fortune- I had a bow, we could now have fresh meat, and protection- and then it hit me. Despite how generous the gifts were, they had completely neglected to consider Cato entirely. Why hadn't they sent him anything? He was just as much part of this as I was. My face fell and I bit my lip in confusion and frustration, not wanting to seem ungrateful on camera for the rest of the world to see. It surely wouldn't bode well if I were to need sponsors ever again.

"We're in luck, now aren't we." Cato said appreciatively.

I paused to get my emotions in check before replying, my voice sounding almost sultry. "I suppose so. I'm just glad I don't have to worry about breaking my ankle as much any more." I prodded the boots that were now being accustomed to my grateful feet.

"Its nice knowing people are still betting on us."

"Im guessing some people never stopped. I mean, I am a pretty good bet in the first place, and with you in tow, I don't think we could do any wrong." I said, fighting down a laugh at the ironic undertones of the situation.

"Don't flatter yourself, les not forget who had a higher kill count last games."

"If knowing you played the games better than me last year makes you sleep better at night then so be it." I cooed back, with a wink. Inside I was worried and somewhat disgruntled by his mentioning of the number of kills he scored last games. Was it a competition to him? Was he still as enveloped in his career mindset that he didn't realize that what he said was perpetually sickening?

"You help me sleep well at night. I think I might sleep better if I'm in your good graces by evening though." Cato said, sheepishly.

"Don't you worry about anything." I said back with a wink.

Silently we agreed to forage for food and possibly find options of shelter. With my newfound bow in hand, comfortable shoes on me feet, and an affectionate form of reassurance known as Cato by my side, we made off in the opposite direction of the felled trees, staying on the outskirts of the remaining forest, ignoring the plateau, as we were aware it would hold little to nothing for us. The air tasted thin and wet, and it was a struggle to fill my lungs with enough oxygen by the time Cato suggested we take a rest. So far we had shot a single rabbit, found five tracker jacket nests, and several bushes of poisonous berries, but nothing that could contend for shelter, nor drinking water.

Our luck was wearing thin and I was beginning to feel the effects of dehydration. Fear flooded my brain yet again as I internally flinched at the memory of how I nearly died last year thanks to dehydration. We had spent a good four hours walking at our own pace in search of food and shelter without so much of a drop of water along the way. The only source of water I could think of was the pool we had left by which we were married, and I had a feeling it was as of now closed off, considering there was an entrance to the tribute's building within ten yards of it.

Not having to fear drawing enemy tributes to us, we openly lit a fire to cook our relatively small rabbit. Food was scarce here too, and it was incredibly worrying. Between the two of us there was absolutely nothing left, and I felt Cato hadn't eaten his full share. He even insisted that I had his extra haunch. "For the baby." He said, the planted a greasy kiss on the top of my head, grinning.

I burped softly, bring a hand to my mouth and blushing slightly in embarrassment. Cato just laughed.

"The baby says thank you." I mumbled between my fingers, which fueled Cato's laughter even more.

When is laughter slowed, he placed a hand on my stomach gently and said "you're welcome. Just promise not to eat like a disgusting pig the same way your mother does." he said, his eyes glinting.

"Thanks darling. Lets just hope the kiddo's eating habits come from your side of the family. I think Effie might die if she gets mine." I said wrinkling my nose at him.

"Yes well, we'll have to keep you alive to ever find out who's manners she gets."

"I don't think you should be so broad about manners, especially when you just called your wife a disgusting pig." I said stoutly, sporting a smug grin.

"Can't say I didn't make you laugh though." Cato said, looking defeated, but his eyes twinkled with triumph. "Come on, I think we should continue looking for water. And something for dinner. I wouldn't mind slightly larger portions this time, either."

"shut up! You'll eat what you get and you'll be happy doing so. Unless you plan on wrestling us up a bear, because I promise you that we'll get pretty large portions of that."

"Alright, if that will make you love me more, then I'll do it."

"Don't bother, if I loved you any more my heart would explode. We aren't designed to harbor such large quantities of emotion." I said, standing up, more aware than ever of the dull aching in my tongue and mouth that was barely producing any saliva at all, not helped at all by the think rabbit meat.

"Lets go find some water, I'm parched." Cato murmured.

"Yes lets." I groaned back, slumping my shoulders forwarded dramatically, then popping my bow up over my back.

Having walked for most of the day, we finally slumped to the base of a large maple tree whose discarded leaves littered the rotting forest floor. Confident that we were out of range of the last earthquake zone, I buried my head in Cato's chest, ignoring the smell of sweat and dirt, my fingers mindlessly playing with the leaves and soil that littered the ground.

"Don't worry, there has to be water around here somewhere." Cato said, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"I guess so." I said. I brought my hand up and placed a dirty finger on his nose, rubbing a black streak onto the top of it, then grinned. "Meow." I said mockingly, and let out a dry giggle.

"It's so cold. Thanks for that." He growled, before submerging his hand into the ground and pulling out a handful of soil and sprinkled it carelessly over my head. "I think thats a good look for you." He said with a smirk, marvelling at his handiwork.

"You're an ass." I said and narrowed my eyes, and copied his motion, topping his blond hair off with a heaping pile of pungent and moist soil. My eyes flew open and bugged slightly, widening in shock. The soil was moist. I sprang to my feet, remember my encounter last year with mud and searched anxiously around the area for a source of water, a trickle of a stream or a puddle. Anything.

And found nothing.


	8. Of Water

**The Missing Pieces: Chapter Eight**

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

"It started with a whisper

And then she made my lips hurt."

I scrambled desperately to and fro searching for the source of water that resulted for the soil being moist, while Cato remained seated, watched me with a look of pure amusement endowed on his face. My adrenaline fueled energy surged through my body, pushing me on very much so as if it were the difference between life and death. My eyes, wide open, unblinking for so long that they felt dry and hurt, swept the forest floor with such intensity the focus was hurting my head and adding to the growing number of aches and pains I was feeling.

Giving up, I settled back down next to Cato, sighing and leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Why doesn't Haymitch send water, its obvious you need it?" He said, more to himself than to me, and being in a dehydration provoked near crazed state, I said nothing, biting my tongue trying to keep me from retorting and beg him not to question me.

My hands milled through the soil some more as I wondered from where came the moisture that was seeping into it. It felt soothing against my dry and sore hands, and despite Catos presence, I felt more comforted by the simple source of moisture in my fist than his dominating heat. I buried my hand slightly in the soil coaxing for more moisture and smiled subconsciously, slowly closing my eyes.

"You look beautiful when you're calm."

"And I don't look beautiful when I'm not calm?" I said, my smile spreading, raising at one corner, coily playing with him, but not bothering to open my eyelids.

"No. You look devastatingly atrocious when you're not calm." He said, sending a playful but provoking reply right back at me, although I did deserve it to an extent for initiating it in the first place.

I balled my fists into mock fury, and let me eyelids slink open.

"That was mean." I growled, furrowing my eyebrows, before laughing and letting my hands relax my grip on the soil, and sink farther down into the very oddly porous mixture of peat, soil, and sand.

"I'm a mean man. What can I say." Cato said in good humor, doing his best to make light of our situation.

"Try 'I'm sorry, dear wife, I love you to bits, and I take back those horrendous words I had unfolded unto you only moments ago.', or something like that." I said, talking down my nose to him, doing my best impression of the Capitol accent.

"Good luck getting me to ever say anything that awkward." Cato said, his smile stretching into a smirk.

"Good luck?" I repeated, raising my eyebrow in question.

"My mistake, I meant 'May the odds be ever in your favor.", how bloody stupid of me." He said, taking advantage of my head position and planted a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Fuck you, get off me."

"You already have, and don't forget it." he said, laughing once again, my own laughter joining in.

"Well if you want it to ever happen again, I suppose you'd better be nicer."

"Only if we live long enough, that is." Cato retorted, dragging my submerged hand out of the soil. We both watched as he pulled my hand to eye level, and slowly, so slowly a single bead of liquid built up at the bottom of my finger as the moisture collected from the sodden soil particles all over my hand. My eyes widened in shock and a gasp escaped my lips, which burst into a laugh of joy and shock as the bead grew too heavy and dropped onto my pant leg, landing a little splatter against me.

Fueled by this new sense of joy, Cato dug his hands into the spot where mine had been submerged in previously, leaning his warm body over me, which I was grateful for, as the sun was going down and it was cold. My own hands joining his, we dug a relatively large hole with just our hands, about two feet deep, until we found a tiny collection of water. Pupils dilating in excitement, we continued digging, widening our hole to about six feet deep, which was as far as we could go until the sides of our hole began sliding in and collapsing into the little well of water that had formed.

"Can't dig any further even if we wanted to, theres a rock down there." Cato said, matter of factly. His face fell, and I knew why. Despite the fact that we had found water, it was still too dirty to drink, and I didn't want to imaging the possible Capitol created viruses lurking in the contaminated water below.

* * *

**Sorry guys about how short the updates are and how long it takes to update in the first place. I'm not very into this story any more, and I might actually consider discontinuing it. I have a lot of plans for the plot, its just I don't seem to have the motivation to write them down any more. This is loosing viewers, and was never anywhere near as successful as its prequel, so I'm wondering if its even worth it. **

**-Noel **


	9. Distilled hope

**The Missing Pieces:** Chapter Nine

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

_"One day they're reveal the truth_

_that one will die before you get there."_

Thanks for nothing Haymitch, I thought, while grimacing my discomfort as I shivered into Cato's chest, trying to ignore the biting coldness that nipped me even through my new clothing. Night was falling fast, and with it, so was the temperature. It seemed that the gamemakers were doing everything in their power to make us as miserable as we could be. It seemed pointless to continue moving much more when there was the prospect of a not so comfortable tree and each others arms, especially when body heat had proven extremely useful when the temperatures began dropping a few hours ago.

My throat feeling like it were almost blistering from the lack of water, I closed my eyes and just inhaled what was around me, which was predominantly Cato. Despite our lack of personal hygiene at the time due to being on the brink of a very sudden and brutal death, Cato still smelt quite inviting, although more woodsey then he normally would be. I was suddenly very self conscious about how I smelt, and tried to discreetly arrange myself in a way that seemed natural, but allowed me to bury my nose in the crook of my elbow meanwhile. Breathing my own sent in quickly, I blinked away my first expression of disgust, and then realized I smelled the way I always did back in district twelve. I smelt like a human being who hadn't been pampered to a damaging state the way I had back in the Capitol. I suddenly felt cleaner than ever, and grinned a little to myself.

"What are you smiling at." A dozy Cato said, his voice rasping slightly, but otherwise, he sounded the same as usual, and just as appetizing to the emotion starved pregnant woman that was me.

"Just the fact that you can't rely on the Capitol any more to help you dealing with that mane of hair you've grown. Perhaps you're going to outgrow your looks."

"I think you should be more worried about yourself. I could be bald and still look like a god."

Despite Cato's brush off of my comment, I could see his brain working and the gears churning inside his head, although he hid his confusion well. At the least, he didn't show it too obviously. His hair hadn't actually grown very much, it just got a bit shaggier, although his stylist swore it was 'the biggest rave since lime polka-dots!' but it was about time I got to make fun of him for something, because so rarely did he ever have an imperfection.

Even with the plummeting temperature, this was the only time of the day that I didn't quite feel as if the Capitol had a tight leash around my neck. Tomorrow boding new terrors, it just felt so right to focus on now. Because right now, I was lost in happiness, albite rather parched, in the arms of someone who I never thought possible of doting, but a doting lover nonetheless. If I could live through hell once, and every other day of my life, why couldn't I do it here? Being on the brink of death seemed to mean so much less having been on the brink of death my entire life.

The fact that I just didn't see it then didn't excuse the truth in the matter.  
Prior to the games, I lived day in and day out not knowing what ill fate would rip those who meant anything at all for me away in some tragic yet controlled accident. There wasn't anything to lose at this point, besides the last few tendrils of love my body was even capable of extending any more.

"What's going to happen to us." I murmured, after our last attempt at speaking fizzled out into nothingness.

"Fuck me if I know." Cato chuckled, extending his domineering persona to make light of the situation.

"I'll pass. Maybe some other time when we're not on national television?" I said, more for the sake of trashing the Capitol than anything else.

"You know you want me."

"I'm not sure. I'll get back to you on that."

My hand found his and we matched our fingertips together, forming a spherical shape in the space between our palms. The touch was delicate, surprisingly so for someone who's hand was so massive. Mine looked like that of a child while in contact with his. An easy silence settled between us, as Cato buried his lips in my hair and occasionally nosed it, sending little shivers of delight down my spine.

"Tomorrow we'll find somewhere to dig. I have a good feeling about going deeper in the forest. Less rocks. We might find an underground pool." I said, breaking the soothing silence.

"Mhmm." Was all he replied with, and I could feel his hand slowly relaxing. Quickly threading fingers through his, I brought his hand to my lap, and relaxed into his body as his head cradled in the nook between my neck and shoulder.

"Lets hope tomorrow will be kinder." I whispered, a smile flitting across my face, and then vanished as I concentrated on Cato's slowing breathing, signalling his slumber. I don't suppose it took long for myself to follow him into unconsciousness.

It was just so darn hot. I could feel the sweat drip down the sides of my temples but I couldn't get up. It had been so long since I'd had undisturbed sleep free of nightmares. Cato's forehead was slick with precipitation too, I could feel it pool slighting on my neck. Rays of sunlight ripped through my closed eyelids depriving me of the cool blackness they had provided during my slumber. Before I could even move, Cato lifted his head and sighed, yawning slightly.  
"Well, this is better than having to run for our lives the moment we wake up." He growled, mid-yawn.

"Barely. Although I'm grateful for not having to run my ass off with a parched throat. Come to think of it, I don't fancy doing very much at all in this heat."

Jacked from the heat, we slowly made our way down to the ground, duly noting that the air was slightly less hot down here. My feet felt strangely uncoordinated as I made my way forwards a little, trying to get a grasp on my bearings, but the heat swilled in my head nauseatingly. A resounding thud informed me that Cato had made it to the ground as well.

I turned in a circle observing my surroundings, and while nothing seemed different, I had a nagging twinge in the corner of my mind that told me something was off.

Shaking off my fleeting thoughts of confusion, I stuffed my fingers into my pockets and stiffly walked off in the direction of thicker foliage that was undisturbed from the earthquake that had struck yesterday. Turning briefly to make sure Cato was following, I allowed my brain to wander into the depths of the unknown, like what monstrosities would the Capitol throw at us today.

Catching up with me, Cato seemed to sulk, looking as he usually did, but today with a hint of weariness. Not that I'd ever let him know, but the stress of the situation was physically seeming to affect him more than me. Which was ironic considering I was the one carrying an unborn child.

"In a hurry now, aren't we?" He said gruffly, his voice almost hoarse.

"You could say that." I replied offhandedly, pausing for a second, then continuing on my direct path into what I used to associate with safety but now held nothing but unsure potential danger. Trees were protection, a safe haven, but now seemed too fragile to reassure me, if they could be felled so effortlessly.

By the time we were deep within the heart of the woods-what was left of them- I was out of breath, and my head throbbed angrily. Cato and I had long stopped conversing to save energy and breath. We were so far in that we would have a hard time getting back to the plateau, and if we didn't find water soon, we might not make it back at all.

To save the effort of speaking, I pointed warily at a bare patch of soil that was in a clearing, only dry leaves clustered here and there disturbed the open patch of soil.

One hands and knees I began digging, clawing my way with my fingers, disregarding the soil that was finding its way under my uncut nails. Madly, I flung dirt out of the way in desperation, guided by nothing but a gut instinct that this would have a promising end. Every handful of dirt that left the hole only added to my sinking heart. Maybe there was nothing here at all. There probably wasn't anything anyways. The soil isn't even remotely moist after all. Thoughts flying through my mind, I was too preoccupied to notice Cato going on his knees to join me until I felt his hands clawing through the soil with mine.

Tiredly, both working in unison, we dug a narrow hole that I would have been able to stand in and not be able to see over the top of had I had the energy to do so. The ground was getting more moist, but every once in awhile a little handful of roots would come away with the soil. I was almost hope and was about to sigh and lie down in defeat when Cato gave a startled yell and fell headfirst into the hole and disappeared.  
The signature cannon shot fired and I screamed in shock, the sound ripping across the sandpaper flesh that now made up my throat.

**Authors Note: **_Well guys, its been forever. I wouldn't even have been motivated to write this in the first place if it weren't for the most recent 3 reviews I've gotten urging me to. I hope you don't hate me for the cliffhanger, but you are all in for a major surprise next chapter if I ever get around to writing it. Please review, it really does make the difference to me, and motivates me to continue writing. Without it, I would probably just give up like I almost did. Anyways, I hope you liked it!_

_-Kato Everdeen (Noel)_


	10. Hush and Shush

**The Missing Pieces: **Chapter 10

**Kato Everdeen** aka Noel Dube

_ "Give me a moment, give me a chance_

_Lost in the hurt, caught in the past"_

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is an honor to present the winner of the 74th and 75th Hunger Games! Katniss Everdeen!" Came Caesar's voice amplified to degrees that of thousands beaming down around through the arena. The sounds of cheering capitol citizens mingled with his voice, as they were playing the live feed sound of the city. Mingling with the cheers came the telltale call of the mockingjays that signified that there was an approaching hovercraft. The orchestra of sounds brought bile to my throat and I keeled over, spat out blood bitterly between my two parched lips and screamed my agony.

Cato was dead, and I was supposed to go back. Everyone was dead at this point, and that being the case, what was the point of living on? Why give the Capitol the honor of having another trophy? They have plenty, and all of them surely more magnificent than a soon to be mother with a broken heart and no will left. Maybe I can opt for opium or morphine once the baby is born. Or not. If I get hooked on alcohol before the baby is born, maybe I can spare it from the horrors of the hunger games. But what about me? Why couldn't I be spared from the horrors of the games? Why should I even let them claim me as their trophy in the first place?

I could feel the air chill as the hovercraft approaches, and with that, I hurled myself head first sideways, into the hole, closed my eyes praying for a quick death, and preparing myself with a smile to greet all my loved ones. Waiting for bone shattering impact, or suffocation of some sort, I smiled a smile just for myself. One last one, to salute the old times, the old memories I had accumulated and associated with the finer aspects of life.

Then my cannon went off.

It was dark and the air had a musky humid quality to it.

This couldn't be death, could it?

If it was, it wasn't that bad, but honestly, I couldn't imagine heaven to have a sort of brightening quality. Or hell to have a sort of evil demeanor to it. This was just…warm and ambiguous albeit rather dark.

"Be quiet, missus. Hush and shush or they shall hear your from above!" hushed a raspy voice that sounded kindly but weathered with age.

My eyes widened, and I was suddenly so aware of my body. My hands gripped and unwrapped, forming a fist then relaxed. I was on my back, against a slab of what felt like stone. My toes wiggled within my boots, and I flexed my facial muscles, feeling my lips move silently. My skin still adsorbed temperatures, and detected the rough textures of my clothing. My eyes blinked in the darkness, detecting nothing. It was the same with my eyes open as it was when they were closed. Sitting up, I realized it wasn't completely dark; there was a tiny source of red light way off in the distance of rocky craters that was only visible by squinting.

"Cato." My voice came out as a groan.

"Hush, hush, hush missus, they are nearby, I hear them, that I do." Said the voice, with strange inflections and tones. I had decided that it was a woman, although I couldn't quite be sure.

She moved silently, and I felt smooth leathery fingers clamp around my mouth, tenderly, but with an urgency that made me stiffen and eyes widen with a strong desire to comply to her will. Above us came rumblings and strange noises of commotion.

Was I dead? I had come to the conclusion that I wasn't. But now came a harder question to answer. Where was I? Starting with the basics, I wasn't in Captiol captivity, but that didn't mean I was safe. It was a rocky terrain, and I was definitely underground. Cato was down here, that I also knew for sure, which was another plus, but his state of being was questionable, but the likely hood was he wasn't dead, which was an unbelievable relief, and I could feel my pulse beginning to slow already.

The commotion coming from above stilled, and her voice floated to me again, this time close to my ear.

"Time to go now, missus."


	11. Of Marble

**The Missing Pieces**: Chapter Eleven

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

I had been taken through a maze of burrowed murky tunnels that resembled that of an ant hill. It smelled of dead insects and wet earth. Any sound made was adsorbed by the ground, the walls, the ceiling. My savior had revealed that her name was Narcissa. She had the tendency to wince whenever I spoke, as if I were screaming into her ears. She had refused to tell me anything, only repeating 'hush and shush, missus' in an increasingly urgent voice as we continued our descent into the unknown realm below us.

The ground jolted steeply at times, and leveled out at random. At times there was an iridescent glowing by which I could see by, but at other times, we traveled in completely blackness. My eyes strained against the protruding darkness, but it was for naught, and they would not focus. I was breathing heavily, my throat burned, and skin felt cracked beneath the layers of dirt that had clung to me.

We had arrived to a complete stand still, and only then did Narcissa mumble something in a language that I didn't understand. It sounded like a series of birds chirping, or perhaps leaves crunching beneath a boot. The halls illuminated in an eerie green glow and hardly realizing, my face split into a slowly uncurling smile. I was in a massive underground cavern, with massive white pillars that ascended into the rocky ceiling, which could have been almost a mile high. Around each pillar were delicate white jutting staircases that spiralled round after twirling round. Between the pillars at gaps in the stairs were stunning marble bridges that formed perfect arches. A perfect round door was jutted into the pillars evenly, positioned about the height of a grown man apart. The ground was varying shades of granite and amber, worn smooth from the feet of thousands from years upon years.

The green light radiated from tiny lamps positioned on any flat surface besides the ground. The white marble reflected the light, while the ground adsorbed it, and it had an oddly soothing effect. Forests had once been a harbour of safety for me, but now they held an awful reminder of everything wrong with life, and stone, it seemed, is a safer, more secure, and much much harder to destroy. I could use some stability in life. At least for a little while.

"Missus, you must be checked. The Herald is always free at this time. But hush and shush, you don't want to wake the colony." Narcissa said hoarsely, tugging on the hem of my shirt as she limped off.

Any number of things were going through my mind, in a jumbled ugly mess that didn't make sense to me, let alone to anyone else. My legs ached and my throat continued to burn. My head swam and everything was duplicating in my vision. A put a protective hand over my stomach despite there being almost no physical sign of pregnancy despite the tiniest of bumps.

Narcissa led me to a massive pillar, easily the biggest one in the entire cavern, and it seemed to be holding up the entirety of the ceiling.

"Go in, Missus, go in in in. But hush, shush and hush for the noise will hurt his ears!"

There was the creak of a door, and I felt her bony hand push my into the blackness of the inside of the pillar. It smelled musky, of good topsoil. I was dizzy, and at this point, I didn't even care where I was. It took too much effort just to remain standing, and more so to control my breathing.

Hitching my breath, I outstretched my hand forwards, groping in the darkness as I slowly, so slowly, inched forwards, my boots bully echoing against the ground. My fingers made contact with what felt coarse, like uneven wood, while rough and rugged, matted with a soft fuzz. I stop dead in my tracks, and brought my other hand up to meet my first, and found the object to be rather spherical. My fingers enveloped on the object, finding a soft moist opening, slightly agape. Moist! Water! Both my fingers rushed to the spot, jamming their way into it, when the entire object shook and made a strange gurgling noise. In shock, I jerked my hand back with speed that I didn't even know I had any more.

"Out of my mouth, Missus, take your fingers out!" Came a voice from the spherical object, as I recoiled in potential disgust and fear.

"Let a fly in your mouth, yes you will!." My jaw jammed shut hardly realizing when it opened in the first place.

"Missus is thirsty." I couldn't even bring myself to nodd.

"Poor girl. Let me just-" and there was a little shuffling with the sound of someone standing up and a dull puddling sound of bare feet on the marble. "-get you something to drink, yes, Missus." Said the voice, as there came the noise of knocking banging and tapping of wood on wood, tile, and metal.

The puddling sound approached again, and a firm leather hand grasped around my wrist, pulling it up, and into my fingers, a rough wooden bowl was thrust. For a second, I just held it in my hand, feeling the liquid inside slop back and forth ever so slightly. My throat ceased to burn for a few seconds and my eyes began to tear up.

"Thank you." I whispered, before whipping the bowl to my mouth, spilling half of it down my breast in the process. The rest of its water found its way down my throat, and my mind went blank with bliss as my tongue felt the moisture on it. Before I knew it, my tongue was dry again, and a familiar pang of parched thirst sprung back up, making me pant.

"More? Thirsty little girl now aren't you..." The voice chuckled, and I felt another bowl thrust into my other hand, and I gladly traded it for my empty one.

This time taking care not to spill it, I drained another bowl, followed by another and another and another.  
By the time that I felt refreshed enough to function, I sank to the floor, forgetting any manners, although I doubted my company would care. "Sorry for just barging in." I whisper, scared if I said too much, my burning thirst would return.

"No harm done, little lady. Now let the Herald get a good look at you." A light turned on, bathing the near bare white room in yellow iridescence. Before me was a tiny pale man, withered and wrinkled with age, eyes bugging out of his head, and skin leather-like .

"Why do you look at the Herald like that, young Missus?"

My eyes bugged a little, and I shook my head in protest. I wasn't looking at him like anything.

"Ah, yes, you are tired I know, and longing too, yes, yes. My apologies, little missus, but we must do this right, and right it shall be done!" The little man slunk over and dropped gracefully to his knees to join me on the floor where I was too exhausted to even twitch in response to him.

"Yes, pretty, pretty. She's so pretty, pretty. They'll be angry she missing, missing a fine jem, they are. Pretty pretty little missus, don't worry, the colony will take care of you. Any bumpseis and bruises? Titsies and tats? No worries, no worries, the Herald will fix that!" He chuckled and grinned, talking the way maybe a child would, in a sing song voice, going on about nothing really.

"Pretty pretty, can I touch your hair? Such fine hair, little missus, it will be missed by them, for sure!" and without waiting for me to respond, because he knew I probably couldn't even if I wanted to, he reached out and ran a withered old hand through my matted tresses. "Pretty Missus, pretty." He made a what he must have assumed to be soothing hushing sound in his throat.

"Its time to take you to the extraction chamber, Missus. We've got to be able to identify you, yes, yes!" He murmured. "Make you all better, time to make you all better!"  
From behind him, he pulled out a covered pot and a brush.

"Arm please!" He giggled, taking my arm in his hands without waiting for my to comply. Taking the lid off the pot, he dunked the brush in, and scooped out a big dollop of...lard? He put it on my arm, coated it entirely, laying the brush up and down, its bristles pressing roughly into my arm as he sang merrily in animal sounds, imitating a bird chirping or a pig braying. Reaching my shoulder, the brush came in contact with my sleeve, he put the brush down, and ripped violently.

"What?" I said groggily, my eyes drooping.

"Got to make you all clean, got to, got to, got to!" He giggled, laughter turning to hisses. "Cold compress means you live, Missus. If you like we can hot compress, but I don't think you want to face the dark one!" he laughed, a cheery laugh, ill fitting for the bizarre situation.

I felt his fingers strip me roughly, until I was sitting in naught but a filthy pair of capitol issued panties.

"Clean missus, cold compress. Yes, yes."

And so he smothered me in animal fat while I nodded off to sleep.


	12. Of Scents

**The Missing Pieces**: Chapter Twelve

Noel Dube (aka Kato Everdeen)

I woke up feeling sticky. Sticky damp and cold. I had a vague buzzing sensation going through my limbs, due to how numb they were. The air was thick and heavy, and smelled of a the garbage can behind the butchers shop back in district twelve. Groggily, I tried to stretch and found that I was bound tight.

"She stirs at last, Mister, yes yes!" Came a vaguely familiar voice.

There were sounds of rustling and commotion, which was countered by an abrupt "calm yourself, Mister, she won't be ready for a while now; sleepy- yes, tired- yes." The voice was developing a hissing lisp.

I tried to open my eyes but they didn't want to. It was so much easier to keep them closed, it was more peaceful. The voice was right, I was tired. A few more minutes of sleep maybe, no more. I'll need to be on lookout. Letting my mind to relax, I began to slip under when another voice spoke up.

"Will she be alright?" -Cato.

"You were, Mister, weren't you? Missus will be quite all right, quite all right. Cold compress takes time, time and energy. Energy and rest, yes. Missus must rest."

I don't want to rest! I screamed inside my head, except my lips didn't move. My voice was trapped within the confines of my exhausted body. What's a cold compress? Where am I? Why am I so cold? What is Cato doing? Why am I not starving? Why am I so...tired? ...Why...so...tired?

Overwhelming myself, I pass back into unconsciousness.

"See here, Mister. We must extract your smells. See, our eyes, they wither. The dark is absolute, yes? Sight does wither, blackness takes over. Yes, Mister, you need to fall back, yes, see, on smells. Smells can be stolen, learned, and memorized. See here Mister, see here, for I am the keeper of the smells!"

In his fist, he brandished a vial of a queer blue liquid. Cato gazed at it pensively, keeping his distance, untrusting. Katniss had been wrapped up next to him when he had woken and his first instinct was to fight his way out of his confines. The wrinkled old man whom he had first been approached by had drugged him, and was vaguely aware of being lathered in something or rather, and kindly wrapped with tender hands before being raised upright into suspension. How the old man had managed this while half blind was a mystery to Cato, but it had happened regardless.

Uncorking the vial, a strong musk filled the room, with undertones of wild-grass and elderberries.

"Mister has never smelled such strength in smell, no? No, see, the cold compress means we can take even the most teensy breath of nothing and pour it in a bottle, yes."

His every word somehow involved an elongated 's' to it, and the diminutive man began to seem more an more snakelike.

Cato remained silent, and put his effort into seeming impassive, while allowing his eyes to dart all over the room which was steadily seeming farther and farther away despite its constant dimensions.

Upon further strained focus, the walls were covered from floor to ceiling in tiny shelves, spread apart enough to house one bottle standing on edge. The ceiling seemed to stretch upwards forever, and the bottles spun stretched up and up, seemingly part of the wall design unless properly fixated at.

"Can you smell them, Mister? Smell all the smells of the people in this land? Yes, years of collection, years and years. Recollection too, after the destruction of so many, sssss."

Cato said nothing.

The bodies had not been found. None had been recovered, and the peacekeepers were frantic. Search party after search party had been sent out to find them, any of them, any trace. Strands of hair, bits of ash, torn lengths of clothing, and they found nothing. Nothing of the group that had died in the fire, nothing of the couple who had fallen. Sitting in a chair of wood in his garden, Snow stared impassively into space. Mind running full tilt, his fingers groped for distinct nothingness in the air, his elbow perched upright against his armrest.

In rapid contemplation, he amounted to a theory that if there are no traces of death, then they are alive. Now the question that remains is 'how'. Smacking his lips and ignoring the dulling taste of blood in his mouth, he closed his eyes and simply exhaled, calming himself down, and plotting wakes of demise.

"Cato?" My voice was scratchy. It occurs to me my voice hasn't sounded normal in days. The day that it sounds less like scouring pads will be the day I begin to slink back into my normal shoes. It smelled of earth, stone, and familiarity. My body was still numb, but it was a good numbing feeling. I felt alive and aware of myself, and ready for the peace to come. Cocooned in a cool pressure, I felt oddly comfortable, and was content with waiting until it was time.

"Missus wakes for the second time now, yes, see, Mister, shes up, yes sir yessss." Came the familiar voice with hissing qualities to it. There was a rustling of sheets shoes and cloth, and a distinct patter patter of approaching footfalls.

Pressure applied to two different parts of my body hidden behind the bandages and layer of goo that I was wrapped in.

"She's a beauty isn't she!" Came the voice, stressing each of the 's's more and more with each word. The pressure around me held in place by the bandages was beginning to lessen and lessen until I could hardly feel it, and my toes brushed the floor. "Come, come give me a hand, yes, Mister! Help! Help and aid! Aid and assistance! Assistance, yesss!"

Firm hands pressed to my now bare arms, and slid down. "Welcome back Katniss." I heard in my ear, then my feet were planted firmly on the ground. I pitched forwards when my legs gave out, from both fatigue and from disuse of my muscles. The numbness was sending a buzzing current through my limbs as I surged forwards, only to be gripped and propped upright.

I struggled to get my eyes to function, to get a glimpse of Cato, to get a glimpse of the only man on earth who could possibly calm my racing heart a time like this. Unwillingly, my tired eyes cracked open and found themselves level with his electric blue ones, before they slipped back shut. Without realizing, I let out a sigh of contentment and understanding.

In the half second that we had eye contact, I understood two things. First that he loved me and he would help me, and second that everything would be alright and I shouldn't be afraid. My heart weighed down with affection for one being alone swelled as it beat within the confines of my ribcage, and mentally prepared myself for whatever may come.

"And now, see this? Mister, this is the s-s-s-scraper. It assists us. Remember it, sir? Yes? Come come, hold Missus still!" The voice bubbled, maintain its hissing quality which was stronger than ever now.

"Sit tight. It will be cold, but you won't feel sticky any more." came a breath close to my lips. Parting my own slightly, I tried to nod and found that ours collided. My mind went blank and I felt a compulsion to slink to the floor. Only his strong hands held me upright, and it was the stability that he provided that kept me in place, both physically and mentally.

Without warning, cold curved cruel metal clamped just above my hip. Breathing out in sudden shock, I shuddered violently against the metal.

"Sit tight, it's okay." He breathed again, and this time I felt his lips enclose around mine, and my mind truly went blank. All that was left in it was a swirling desire to keep Cato happy, and a vague smell of wild grass.

The metal device began to inch its way down my leg, bit by bit, occasionally being taken away for a second, followed with a sound of scraping metal on metal, before it returned to where it left off, inching further and further down my leg, taking the sticky cool animal lard with it, making me feel cleaner by the second.

When my legs were finished, I felt a clammy hand followed by the metal device at my navel, and I could feel the blood running to my face. I tried to pull away from Cato's unmoving kiss, but his lips only pressed harder to mine, smoothing his thumb in an errant circle through the lard coating my upper arm. The cold metal felt freezing passing over my unmentionables, and I felt an unexpected tear leak out of the corner of my right eye.

It was over faster than I had expected, and I could feel the device move to my neck, and travel down to my behind, then match up with the strokes that had once been used on my legs. The strokes were small, precise and calculated, and took too long. I felt violated, and it was only Cato's presence that didn't send me screaming out in disgust. For a fleeting second I felt intoxicated, like I had been drugged, before I dismissed it. I wouldn't let someone drug me, would I? Why would I let someone coat me in animal fat and scrape it off me then? Thinking was beginning to hurt my head and I allowed myself to lull back into my shallow dreamlike world within the confines of my brain.

Seemingly hours late, the hissing voice returned. "Its done Missus, hush, yes, and shush. The assistance is done, and you can clean, yes clean yourself. Leaving now, yes I must. To boil and boil and boil and bubble and toil and boil, yes!" Cato grunted as a door slammed shut, and his grip on me lessened slightly.

"What just happened." I felt more control over myself, and my dozy haze was wearing off. I was suddenly very self concious of my naked body, and moved to cross my arms and clamp my legs together tightly. The room was still dark, but I could make out Cato's outline only a few feet away from me.

"We've fallen into an underground society. They didn't explain much to me, but I'll tell you what I found out while you were in the waiting room." He said, letting go of me altogether, slowing, testing my legs out to make sure they wouldn't give out from under me again. I blinked slowly, trying to recall everything that had happened to date.

Prim, Caleb, Rohan, and Valerie were dead in a fire...my spouse and I had been shoved back into a slightly larger cage on our wedding day...there was an earthquake...I was thirsty, so thirsty...Cato fell and died...and then I jumped...and died as well...and here I am. And here he is. Alive and well, although shrouded in shadows.

"Who's 'they'?" I found myself muttering. Thinking twice about it, after glancing down at my own naked body, I was suddenly glad for the darkness. "Are my clothes lying around too, by any chance?"

"Yeah." There was a pause where he went to collect the remains of my clothing from in the arena. His hands found mine briefly and there was a jolt of electricity running through me at the contact. He helped me ease a new shirt onto me, that smelled woodsey of earth and dirt. Then turning to put my back to him, I stepped carefully into the pants, my hands shaking slightly with concentration.

After turning back to face him, feeling slightly less self conscious, I moved to him. Still both hungry and thirsty, my hunger for knowledge silenced my stomach, and found myself wrapping around him. Both slinking to the floor, our legs intertwined, and our arms around each other, my head against his chest, I whispered my question again. "Who are 'they'?"

His chest heaving with every breath and with his heart thudding dully under my ear, he murmured back to me everything:

"When I first fell, I thought I was done for. My heart fell because I knew in that split second when I heard my cannon that I would never get to see our child grow up, and that I would be leaving you, alone to the mercy of the world. But when I fell, I landed resoundingly with a thud. I wasn't hurt, aside from some bumps bruises and scrapes. An old woman was coming along, and she spoke in a haggard voice. She brought me here, the same way I assume her sister had brought you. She mentioned something along the way that she was scouting the tunnels for escaped mutts.

I was taken here and simply just drank and drank and drank, I was so thirsty. The man who was in here, he calls himself the keeper of 'smells' although it doesn't make that much sense. I just tend to address him as Keep. I woke up the same way you woke, except you were next to me. It took Keep a lot to subdue me and calm me down, as at the time, I was ripping and tearing through the bondages that held me in place in my feverous attempt to get to you. Only your insured safety honestly calmed me down. I was cut free and cleaned off in a similar fashion to you. Then we sat and waited for you to waken. While waiting Keep began to talk.

He explained about the city. They called themselves the 'United Underworld', and came from different districts, some by rumor, others by accidents, through mine shafts or caves, or underwater ledges that all led down. Their legend goes that the ancient city was created by the original inhabitants of earth that eventually died out. They believed they were a small people with crafty fingers. Its a very simple society, and apparently unknown to the capitol.

The Underworld is led by a monarchy of noble-women, supposedly the first to discover this city, several hundred years ago. Some sort of mutation has entitled them to abnormally long life, but they are old and withered. They are the nose, the ears, the mouth, and the heart of their civilization, but not the eyes, because they believe in the rightful place, eyes should not exist, that they are useless appendages. Their fellows in lead had their eyes gouged out in their youth as part of initiation. The rest of the population lose their eyesight slowly, steadily, as it is claimed by the darkness.

Keep explained all of that briefly, as a leeway to his obsession, which originally was perfumery. In his youth he was a man from district one. His eyes withered exceptionally quickly without the light of day, faster than others here, and for that he was immediately respected, and cherished, for that, and also for his skills. You see, without their eyes, as a community, they have become completely dependant on their sense of smell and hearing. On hearing yes, but most of all on their scent of smell, which to them is a blessing above all other.

Keep discovered a way of distilling any kind of scent, which he discovered after meddling with the theories he learned for extracting flower oils. He keeps mumbling about his 'cold compress', but from what I gathered, he can incase people's personal scents in fat, boil the fat with alcohol, and trap the scent forever as a perfume within the alcohol.

Apparently they use this collection of scents as a form of identification. There is a storage of scents, from everyone in the Underworld, which is the essence of their law and order. All their newcomers go through the same system. Its brutal, has its flaws too, but in the meantime...it will suit us better than the capital, that is for sure. While the capital seems obsessed with technology, this is a realm that puts its faith in magic, charms, fantasy, and this 'essence' they keep talking about. It doesn't seem real to me. I'm lost in my head because of all this and I can't begin to place it.

They say only those that deserve to die actually do, which is probably the root of my confusion. By they I mean these people's stories, although I have only heard them through Keep. He said someone will come by to collect us later, but I have no conception of what may happen. I hate not being in control, I hate not having any say, and I hate not knowing if there is anything I can do, or how to do it. I'm just so glad you're here."

His breathing had grown from even to strained and heavy, and his voice had developed a rasp. His chest heaved and he occasionally shuddered involuntarily, so I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him harder. My lips found his collar, and began tracing butterfly kisses on whatever bare skin they could find, until I was kneeling over his lap, trailing my lips over his jawline, neck, cheeks, nose finally closing the distance and planting mine lips onto his.

"I'm glad as well." I breathed into his mouth, and began to pour my heart into this kiss. Pumping all my angst, anxiety, fear, and pain into it, relieving my brain and my heavy heart, my hands found their way to knot with his hair, as he reciprocated with the same aggression and need.

My body exploded with desire and contact just wasn't enough. I pulled myself completely plush against him, then buried my head in his neck.

"Whatever this new world may bring, whatever happens, we're together. We will raise our child together, we will start a new life, and we will pick up the broken pieces of our lives that the Capitol had smashed and stolen from us." I whispered into the crook of his neck, as tear slipped out of my eyes and moistened his skin.

* * *

My dear readers,

It's been forever since I've updated, and I hope this long chapter makes up for my laziness. If you have been confused, than good. You were supposed to be. I've been thinking long and hard about where I would take this fanfiction during my little break, and I decided to steer it towards a more fantasy realm. I have a lot of surprises coming up, but in the meantime I really hope this fulfilled your longings for an update.

I'm genuinely so happy to have this out (although I don't have the time to properly edit this. Ignore possible errors in the typing, as I've only been writing quickly either on my phone or between classes.) I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again, but hopefully I'll be more actively writing once my final exams are over.

Please review and tell me what you think.

-Noel


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